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Marvel: 2011-04-08 - Caught, Red Handed!
{C.A.T. had paid a kid to go through the dumpster to gather information, and she social engineered some herself. It is called flirting with a young, male employee. She found out that the King is supposed to be out today, and that the KFC fan - conversation started when she mentioned falsely that KFC was her favorite food - had supposedly gone back to Wakanda. With all the information gathered, she still isn't too much better off. Still, she has a new entry point. This time, she went in via the grounds, careful of security and happy not to see any dogs in the area she choose. She avoids any living people, and slips in on the first floor, a back room. This isn't a useful place to gather information, and there are higher risks because the guards are usually on the first floor. She is hoping it won't be expected. She makes free use of her Loop powers, ready to use her others if need be. She came better armed this time. A special modified gun that shoots darts with a sleeping drug in them is tugged into a gun hostler. C.A.T. took a break to think, and do another job. She will give herself one last chance before she tells the employer 'no-deal'. Going against Avengers were never in her plans, she really needs to make a clause in her contracts about 'no superheroes damn it!' Her loop power works fine, disabling the more high tech sensors on the door. Her contact revealed that T'challa'd been stepping up security a bit. Not quite a lockdown, but he'd actually hired security consultants and the like. One thing her loop powers fail to detect, though, on the way in, is a capsule being crushed. It doesn't explode, doesn't release any sort of toxic gas. It does, however, release a scent, nothing a normal human would smell, but strong enough that even in such small quantities, with the central air going, it's likely to spread throughout the embassy in a rather impressive way. C.A.T.'s danger sense is going off vaguely, and it doesn't make sense. She almost pulls out, but it is just so vague! She moves on. She steps lightly, moving toward the door to check for guards and already working on the security cameras she senses as long as there aren't guards standing in front of them. In and out...that's the goal, why does she keep getting a bad feeling? Perhaps it has something to do with some of the stuff that got on her suit on her way through the window, rendering her a source of the scent every bit as much of the capsule, it having not contained enough to be felt through the clothes, like drying your hands on a pair of jeans. Most of the guards are on the perimeter, T'challa's efforts seeming, to the intruder, to have mostly been directed at keeping her out rather than doing anything once she was already in. The cameras are bypassed easily, leaving the woman free to chose her destination. The guards were easy to get through, it was all about timing. She just has to be careful on the way out as they aren't so easily visible. She moves through the place carefully, and goes to look for the guy's office she was flirting with. He is on the second floor rather than the third, more easily reached. She also gave him a program to sneak download on his computer with a neat game on it, that reported to her electronically what his passwords and stuff was. Easy pleasey, little time to look about and transfer the data to her memory stick and she is out. Take less time than last time. Her lips press into a thin line as she quickly works on the lock and the security features to slip inside. This is one time she has no idea just how well T'Challa has out-thought her. The locks are the old fashioned kind, requiring actual picking, rather than simple overriding with her powers. As according to the new policy, her 'boyfriend' turned his computer off on the way out, leaving his office dark, and the gap in the ceiling tiles above his work chair difficult to see. The pick is done in a matter of a few short seconds. The woman knows low tech too, just doesn't expect it here! No this way. C.A.T. moves in, keeping low in case someone does come in and walk by. She moves quietly, trying to keep as silent as possible, hearing her own breathing in soft little sounds. She moves to turn on the computer, and if given time will type in the passwords with ease. Her precognition won't go off until she is about to be bombarded. That low buzzing from her scent grows louder the moment she adjusts the rolling chair, a sharp scream of danger as a primitive hunter's trap goes off, that hole in the ceiling tiles the egress port for a large, heavy net. It makes enough noise with it's weights hitting the floor that it feels like a snare drum in the quiet building. The danger sense only grows louder as T'challa emerges from his hiding spot down the hall, heading towards the room the woman is currently trapped in, unless she can get out of that net rather quickly. The woman moves quickly! Her danger sense alerting her, but the net has her legs and one arm entangled. It isn't easy, half in and half out, especially with her panicking! She is still struggling with getting her ankle out of it, before she remembers one of her many hidden knives! She grabs one and starts to cut through the rope just as are likely opening the door. Oh yes, she is not only still getting out of the trap, as it is going to take her a few seconds to cut through the bloody thing, but she is on her ass, off center for balance, and in a panic. Seriously screwed, she will never live this down! "I will have you know that we regularly scan computers for spyware now," T'challa remarks, moving quickly to kick and pin the hand not trapped by the net to the ground, the dark figure looming over her. "Now that I have you attention, perhaps I can get some answers..." The other hand is free, but not with a weapon. She winces and glares up at you, "That isn't how to treat a lady," she says ina German accented tone. "I don't have any," she says with a pout. "Avengers are such pain in my ass, I really hate you guys." Not really, there is no vemon in her voice, more like whinying. "You are seriously bad luck." "Well, you know your culture's superstitions about black cats," T'challa says, leaning down rather impressively, reaching through the net to remove her dart gun from her side. "And you'll forgive me for not believing someone who is breaking into my Embassy for the second time." The lights click on, blinding for a moment before her eyes can adjust. Two rather large guards step in, T'challa giving them instructions. The net is removed from the woman, as is T'challa's foot. However, she gains handcuffs, and, together, the three men escort her to a room which, after T'challa joins her, is locked from the outside. There's no computer inside, no tech, even, just her, T'challa, and two chairs. T'challa guides her to one, cuffing her ankles to the legs, and sits in the other, looking her in the eye. "You will forgive my caution," he says, diplomatic as ever, even as it is very clear that he is taking the young woman prisoner, for the time being. However, she wasn't searched, and wouldn't even be manhandled unless she tried to fight it. It's a very polite sort of prisoner taking. Handcuffs? Easily gotten out of, she made sure when they pulled them out she had already palmed something useful. She is a master at sleight of hand, she makes her other living off of it. Her lips are pressed into a thin line however at the escort, and it takes a lot of self-control to not lash out. T'Challa can likely tell that much. She is bidding her time to perhaps see what T'Challa does, before she reacts with violence. She always uses violence as a last option. Her eyes narrow, just happy you didn't search her so she wouldn't lose tons of her gear. "Yes, of course." She rolls her eyes, "My word means nothing, because I am not a Queen, or an Avenger, or whatever." She sounds grumpy still, and she is twitchy. She self-control is willing out still however. "No, your word means very little because you broke into, legally, my country, my territory, and, while I am in this country, my home," T'challa says. "However, though armed, you caused no harm to my men on the way in, and that earns you some small courtesies. "I saw you pick the lock on the door, and know you likely still possess those picks, but you have not been searched. This is one of those courtesies. For the moment, I plan to let you go after I have my answers. That is another. Consider it compensation for assisting Captain America." He pauses, then. "But, my roles as Avenger and sovereign are separate, and I must protect my people. So, I know what files you accessed on your first trip here, but perhaps you'd like to tell me just what you were hired to do. For now, I will believe you when you say you do not know your employeer." C.A.T. scowls at you. She doesn't brag about still being able to get out, it would only cause more trouble. But she then takes a deep breath. Her eyes are heated, and there is fight in her, but she honestly isn't the type to beg for trouble. If you look at the gun, you will see it was modified to be non-lethal and silent. "I don't hurt people, I'm not a mercenary, I'm not an assassin, alright? I just...borrow information and give it to someone who...needs it." Nice word choices. "Someone asked for information in a specific file, your mining operations. Big whoopie-do. They asked if I could get them and accepted the job. I did not realize you were in town, and it didn't cross my mind that you were an Avenger, alright? I was researching the building, not -you-." She then sighs, "And I -really- hate being told no." That's why she tried the second time huh? Hates being told no, and hates failure. No, she doesn't come off as malicious at all, just a highly questionable profession which could potentially do a lot of damage. It's questionable how far she'd get with the guards outside the only exit from this room, and a peak human athlete and combatant, to say nothing of his team affiliation, across from her. "What /kind/ of mining?" T'challa asks, his eyes narrowing behind the mask. "I don't know," she answers honestly, "Like I know metals." Her tone mildly sarcastic. "I don't know gems either." Not your typical girl. The German accented woman then says, "I can tell you the file directory. Vibranium. I've heard of it before, but no clue what it really does, why it's important or how it is mined. So I was just going to copy all your files on mining operations, e-mail them to a generic e-mail account, get transfered some money, and leave it at that. This didn't fall under my morally questionable 'do not do' list. I'll make sure to add 'Avenger Associated' to that," she ends in a soft sigh. "So...can I get my gun back...pllllleeaaasssseee? I promise I won't shoot you with it! Well, maybe...you might be fun to molest when you are defenseless." She winks at you. T'challa isn't amused by the flirtation, keeping the gun in /his/ hands. "Vibranium is very rare, very valuable, and very dangerous," he explains. "And you have not managed to get your employer any information, then?" "No, and I said I would decline the job, and I'm seriously about restricting any Avenger, no, screw that, 'hero' associated stuff from the list. Unless it's personal." She touches her tongue to her upper lip. "But not for money. So what's dangerous about it?" "It's applications for warfare, primarily, a venue I have worked very hard to keep it out of," T'challa remarks. "And I would /strongly/ suggest that you do." He considers for a moment. "What /can/ you tell me about your employeer?" "Nothing. Anonymous electronic contact through the usual sources. If you bothered to search, you could likely contact me the same way anonymously and hire me to do a job. I'm an information dealer," thief really. "Most like to give me as little information as possible." "You were to send them the information electronically? To what address?" T'challa wonders. "Perhaps I can use that." "Generic. gmail account. Look, I'm going to decline the job and leave empty handed. But betraying a potential employee just rubs me the wrong way, especially since they haven't done any wrong, yet. Now if we were talking about world terrorism? That is a whole 'nother story, ja? If I went betraying potential employees all the time, I'd end up with no work." She has standards, she helped Captain America after all, right? "I'm not a traitor. I make an agreement, and my word is my bound until the contract is completed. The only exception is if I am betrayed or it touches on my list of 'no can do', ja? Then, it's their funeral as I turn them over if I can find them. You don't know for sure they were going to use it for weapons, or in some harmful matter." Faith in humanity? What is with this crazy woman? T'challa sighs. "Fair enough. And just what is your 'no can do' list?" the man wonders. C.A.T. has -no- problem with sharing that information! She is actually hoping you might employee her one day! She smiles brightly, "No terrorism, no killing or bodily injury, information only and only rare exceptions are made, so far, none made," but she leaves it open for chance. "Add, no pissing off heroes on their home turfs," she adds. "I hold the right to decline any job that I do not feel agrees with my morals." She nods at that. "It's pretty simple for the most part, but I've declined lots of jobs that didn't mesh with me. Sometimes the information requested stolen just is so not O.K., like viral stuff, or weapon designs. Though I might do a weapon design theft if it was between two corporate companies," she explains. "The weapon will be going to same the buyers in that case and it isn't terrorism, just marketing." T'challa gives a slow nod. Something strikes him, then. "You say you deal in information, correct?" C.A.T. nods, her body shifting to be displayed a little more...coyly. "Yes. Nice old tricks you used by the way, not something normal people do. I'm very good at what I do," she states matter-of-factly. She smiles over at you, "Want to hire me?" Lose one job and get a new one, would mean the night isn't a total waste. "My country is rather... traditional, and has modernized only recently. We have not forgotten how to trap the old fashioned way. By scent and by bait," T'challa remarks, somewhat proudly. "Yes, I do. I would like to know who sent you. You will be paid in installments. The first will upon acceptance, where I will return your tools to you and free you. Further installments will come with each clue that leads me closer to your former employers identity." C.A.T. looks absolutely crestfallen. "I hate you right now," she just wanted that clear. "I don't care how good looking and rich you are, I really hate you right now." Her eyes narrow resentfully. "You are retracting on your previous agreement to simply let me go, and that is unacceptable. Why would I want to deal with someone I can't trust to keep his 'promises' to me?" "You could, but there'd be nobody to explain our agreement to the armed guards outside that door," T'challa points out, gesturing to the door behind her. "Oh, damn. Maybe next time, ja?" C.A.T. chuckles, but then she looks more serious, weighing your offer. She finally sighs, "I'll make an attempt. If it proves productive, I'll continue on the trail. Deal?" T'challa gives a nod. "Agreed." He circles around her, then, and undoes her various restraints. C.A.T. purrs over at you, "We should do this more...'privately' sometime," she teases you with a wiggle of her hips. She flexes her wrists, and runs her hands over her clothes to slip the pin she had been palming away. She then holds her hand out for the gun, "I won't shoot you, promise." She winks at you. T'challa shakes his head slightly, and passes her the gun. "Next time... use the front door, and call ahead." "Awwww, I was going to use your bedroom window. You really know how to take the fun out of things, ja?" C.A.T. sighs dramatically. "I do not think my body guards would be amused by that," T'challa remarks, shaking his head. "Anyway, I will tell my guards that you are free to go," he says. When he opens the door, it's more than just the guards that helped escort her to the room, they've been joined by a few rather dangerous looking women, clothing somewhere in between going out on a date, and going to kick that date's ass. C.A.T. boggles, "Now I see why flirting doesn't work with you," she stays with surprise, still careful to hold the German accent. "You are desensitized. You poor, poor thing!" She actually sounds sorry for you. The gun is tucked away and she says, "I can see myself out, no detours. I don't like being crowded." And she is really crowded right now and the warriors can likely tell she is on edge again, even as she makes jokes. "I would appreciate it if you disable whatever device is turning off my security cameras on the way out," T'challa remarks, moving between the body guards, who are shooting C.A.T. a dirty look, and the information broker. C.A.T. is actually doing the deactivating of cameras if there are any in here still. "I rather not have my picture taken. But when I leave, they will operate normally, no issues," she promises. "If everyone can step aside and stop looking at me as if I am a slab of meat, I will gladly leave, ja? I can look up your number I am sure your majesty," carefully showing respect now. If people step aside or not, C.A.T. darts into motion. She leaps up, using the moveable tile ceiling to grab a metal crossband. It bends under her weight, but she is already moving, flinging herself over people's heads to the other side as rolls and then starts running to get the hell out of there! T'Challa can likely get a feeling that she won't ever return, and it will all be taken care of electronically.